Yale  University  Prize   Poem 
1899 


AT    LOS  ANGELES 

4    V  U  U-»  V>  ^J       I    ll  ™  VJI  JLj  U-.  JL<  »J 


YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRIZE  POEM 

i899 


THOAS 


AN  EPILOGUE  TO  GOETHE'S  IPHIGENIE  AUF  TAURIS 


ARTHUR  S.  MANN 


NEW  HAVEN 

TUTTLK,    MOREHOUSK,    AND   TAYLOR 
1899 


CQ 

Iphigenia,    the    daughter    of    Agamemnon,    has   been 

secretly  carried  by  Artemis  to  the  land  of  the  Taurians, 
and  there  serves  in  the  temple  of  the  goddess.  She  soon 
gains  the  favor  of  King  Thoas,  and  is  sought  by  him  in 

^  marriage.  Upon  the  appearance  of  her  brother  Orestes, 
with  Pylades,  in  the  country,  she  asks  the  consent  of  the 

^  king  to  return  with  them  to  Greece.  After  a  severe 
struggle  with  himself  he  yields,  and  grants  permission  for 
them  to  depart. 


THOAS 

AN  EPILOGUE  TO  GOETHE'S  IPHIGENIE  AUF  TAURIS 

Did  she  not  say  that  it  was  for  the  best 
That  she  should  cross  the  loud-resounding  sea, 
And,  tossing  on  the  crested  waves,  again 
Behold  the  purple  coastline  rise  to  sight  ? 
Perhaps  it  was  the  best ;  perhaps  her  heart, 
Eating  itself  out  here  with  longing  deep, 
Might  have  destroyed  the  happiness  of  both. 
Better  to  feel  a  passing  pain,  though  sharp, 
Than  ever  to  have  with  me  day  and  night 
Her  pale  and  chiding  look. 

Ah  with  what  grace 

And  eager  earnestness  she  begged  from  me 
To  let  her  go  once  more  unto  her  home  ! 
How  at  the  name  of  Greece  the  sparkles  played 
Upon  those  deep  blue  eyes,  like  sunbeams  glancing 


From  off  the  dark  waves  of  a  mountain  lake, 
Rippling  and  bright,  but  deep  in  mystery  ! 
But  once  before  have  I  beheld  her  thus, 
And  that  was  when  I  granted  her  request 
To  do  away  the  ancient  sacrifice. 
For  then  her  face,  in  wont  so  calm  and  grave, 
As  did  beseem  a  priestess,  changed  its  look, 
And  glowed  in  happy,  girlish  smiles  ;  and  then 
She  seized  my  hands,  and  poured  out  all  her  thanks 
In  words  that  showed  the  eager  ardent  spirit 
Better  than  years  of  faithful  temple  service 
And  wise  advice  to  me,  the  king.     Ah  then 
Were  locked,  O  Iphigenie,  those  strong  chains 
Which  thy  fair  face  and  golden  words  had  long 
Been  forging  for  my  spirit ;  and  those  chains 
Shall  never  now  slip  link  from  link  until 
In  Lethe's  waves  I  shall  find  peace  again. 


How  can  I  let  thee  go  ?     How  can  I  bear 
To  pass  the  weary,  slowly  moving  years 
Without  thee  at  my  side  ?     Why  did  I  not, 
When  she  was  helpless  at  my  feet,  speak  out 
One  kingly  word  and  claim  the  prize  as  mine  ? 
O  for  one  moment's  glorious  maddening  joy, 
To  see  those  proud  eyes  drop  before  my  look, 
To  seize  that  soft  white  body  in  my  arms, 
To  feel  the  pulse  of  life  beat  wildly  high — 
That  would  be  triumph,  that  be  victory  ! 

Gone,  gone  forever  !    How  the  word  sounds  cold 
And  mocking  in  my  ears  !    Just  so  would  seem 
A  crow's  harsh  caw  above  the  fresh  laid  sod 
Where  all  one's  love  lay  buried.     Even  hope, 
The  one  gift  granted  to  allay  the  swarm 
Of  human  ills,  is  gone  ;  on  me  is  poured 
The  heaviest  curse  the  mighty  three  can  give. 


Kfrr-?  oo 

,O«JJL(C«L/ 


Why  have  the  gods  dealt  with  me  thus  ?    Have  I 
Lacked  aught  in  reverence,  or  with  impious  hands 
Defiled  their  holy  places  ?     Have  I  not 
Served  much  more  faithfully  than  many  men 
Whom  I  behold  in  happiness  and  pride  ; 
While  I,  who  in  all  things  have  sought  to  live 
According  to  their  will,  am  now  bereft 
Of  wife,  of  son,  and  of  a  destined  bride  ? 
Answer  me  that,  aloud  I  call  to  you  ! 
Answer  me,  powers  of  earth,  air,  heaven,  or  sea. 
No  answer  comes,  but  still  the  great  waves  roll 
Relentlessly  upon  the  sandy  beach, 
And  earth  lies  wrapped  in  silence  like  the  Sphinx. 
With  dread  the  future  comes  before  my  mind, 
Nor  life,  nor  death,  can  give  me  joy  or  hope. 


UCLA-Young  Research  Library 

PS536   .Y12p  1899 


L  009  561    493  9 


f'Y  of  CALIFORNIA 
AT 

ANGELES 
RY 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  220  286    7 


